


Of Unknown Origin and Undetermined Power

by 70SecretKinks



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: Cunnilingus, Dubiously Consensual Blow Jobs, F/F, F/M, Masturbation, Multi, Porn with a hint of Plot, Rimming, Squirting, Vaginal Fingering, Vexed women/non-con elements, m/f/f threesome
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-23
Updated: 2015-10-23
Packaged: 2018-04-27 18:25:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,257
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5059309
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/70SecretKinks/pseuds/70SecretKinks
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A handful of S.H.I.E.L.D.'s remaining field agents are on the hunt for a mysterious relic before it falls into the wrong hands. They soon learn it isn't the object itself they should be afraid of, but rather he who wishes to wield it.</p><p>Or, a tawdry tale in which a wicked trickster gets his due.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Of Unknown Origin and Undetermined Power

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, so at long last I'm posting this piece that was especially crafted for a dear friend and supportive fan. I really hope you like it!!!
> 
> Also, I obviously don't own or pretend to own any of these fabulous characters. I just like to play around with them and let them do the dirty like we all wish they really would.

 

**Location: S.H.I.E.L.D. Quinjet, flying over the Czech Republic**

“Okay, we’re almost there.  Let’s go over this one more time,” stated Phil Coulson, the inexplicably reincarnated and recently ‘appointed’ Director of S.H.I.E.L.D.  While this new version of the global protection agency was now Hydra free, it was also sorely lacking the wealth of resources and agents it’d had before being spectacularly dismantled some months ago.

Still, evil never takes a holiday and despite suffering its own considerable losses over Project: Insight, Hydra remained a prevalent and active threat.  Director Coulson and the handful of skilled, loyal agents and allies that remained did their best to keep the world at large safe.  Today that meant bagging an ancient relic of unknown origin and undetermined power before someone less altruistic did.  They’d been tracking the capricious movement of the object in question for weeks and now in roughly ten minutes they were finally going to make their play for it.

Director Coulson pulled up the 3D holographic blueprints for the (why was it always an abandoned warehouse?) building where it was currently being housed in a not-so-secret underground bunker below the structure.  “Barton, Hill – sweep the roof, take out hostiles by any means necessary, and guard the perimeter from incoming operatives.  Carter, you and I will enter here through the service doors and clear a path for Romanoff down to the underground bunker.  Natasha, get in, grab it, and get the hell out.”

Everyone nodded to acknowledge orders were heard and understood.  Turning to the pilot, Coulson added in his usual composed voice, “Everyone should be back on the Quinjet and ready for take-off in exactly 20 minutes.  If we’re not back by then, get in the air and send an S.O.S to Stark.”

“What’s this thing do anyway?” Clint asked casually as he continued to load his quiver with a variety of tactical and lethal arrows.

“Honestly?  I don’t know,” Phil replied.  “But I do know von Strucker’s men are after it too, so it’s obviously important and likely dangerous or deadly.  Any other questions?” he asked, not really waiting for an answer.  “No?  Good.  Let’s go.”

*******

**Location:  An Abandoned Warehouse somewhere in Prague**

“Hawkeye: status report,” Coulson uttered over the comms line.

“Roof is secure.  No sign of hostiles.” Barton replied.

“Copy that,” Coulson answered as he and Sharon crept carefully but quickly through the belly of the building, firearms raised up in front of them, poised and ready to shoot.  “No sign in here either.  Stay alert.  This is too easy.”

“I’m in the bunker and the target is in sight,” Natasha interjected, pulling a specially designed black nylon containment bag out of one of the pouches on her utility belt.  The textiles team at Stark Industries had loosely pledged the enhanced fabric to be fireproof, bulletproof, waterproof, tear proof, idiot proof and resistant to all currently known and cataloged forms of alien tissue and technology.  At the moment, that scarcely populated database included a handful of Chitauri, Kree, and Asgardian samples.

“I’m going to bag it,” the redhead confirmed.

“Roger that.  Barton, Hill, Carter – hold your positions,” Coulson ordered.

Natasha stealthily approached the conspicuous looking metal containment chest, carefully eyeing the exterior for any obvious signs of a trap or trickery.  The only light in the tiny room emanated from the dull lamps mounted in the hallway outside and the soft blue glow from the weapons and components integrated into her skin-tight tactical uniform.  She inhaled a deep breath as she gently placed her hands on the corners of the case.  When nothing blew up or otherwise went to hell, she released the breath she’d been holding in a slow, purposeful exhale through her plump, barely parted lips.

She rubbed her thumbs tentatively over the two large latches on the front of the chest before pressing firmly down on the release tabs.  The distinctive clicking noise that the latches made as they briskly flipped open echoed loudly in the vacuous shell of the run-down structure.  The heavy lid creaked on its hinges like a decrepit door on a haunted house as Natasha slowly pushed it open.  A neon green glow burst from the inside of the case, suddenly illuminating the dilapidated bunker, casting eerie shadows over the sparse furnishings inside and painting Natasha’s perfect alabaster skin in a shade that could rival the Hulk’s.  She let her hands drop down by her sides as she stood and stared into the chest, completely mesmerized by the object.  She had no idea how long she’d stood there, transfixed by the hypnotic relic inside of the case but she was shaken from her apparent trance by Coulson’s voice cracking over the comm.

“Natasha?  Natasha!”

“Yeah.  I’m here,” she replied quietly.

“Is the target acquired?” Coulson probed.

Natasha unfolded the thin bag and turned it inside out, quickly grabbing the object before pulling the bag right-side-out again and cinching it closed.  She turned on her heel and made her way into the hallway before replying.

“Affirmative.  I’m coming out.”

She strode through the maze of narrow, dimly lit corridors with confident, determined steps, the soles of her boots crunching over bits of scattered debris.  She took the stairs up from the underground lair two at a time before emerging onto the main floor of the warehouse.

As soon as Coulson spotted her, a look of genuine relief flashed over his features before they were schooled once more into the unflappable mask he usually wore.  He looked pointedly at Agent Carter before nodding towards the designated exit.

“Barton, Hill.  Head to the rendezvous point.  We’ll see you on the bus.”

The three of them stepped out of the warehouse and onto the loading dock just outside.  They could see the Quinjet parked in the adjacent lot, the rear entrance hatch opened and waiting.  Coulson positioned himself at the midway point between the end of the dock and the ramp to the jet.  He waved the other agents on towards the bus as he stood guard, waiting for them all to climb safely aboard before following suit.  Natasha had just reached the end of the loading dock, clutching the containment bag firmly to her chest when her path to the Quinjet was suddenly cut off by a massive blinding column of light.  The air crackled as gale force winds howled and swirled all around the pillar of light creating a concentrated, violent vortex.

“Hit the dirt!” Coulson yelled, hopeful that his team would hear him through the deafening noise.  Natasha was already hugging the earth, instinctively shielding the relic beneath her body before hastily bracing her arms around her head.  She squeezed her eyes shut tightly and began to keep a steady count in her head to settle her nerves and steady her heartrate.  _One-one-thousand, two-one-thousand, three-one thousand, four-one…_  And then it all just stopped.  As suddenly as the freakish ‘storm’ had appeared, it vanished with equal stealth.

Natasha pulled her arms away and cautiously lifted her head to scan her surroundings.  A large, black, circular design was scorched into the ground, wisps of smoke still rising in the wake of the otherworldly source that had created it.  A lone figure was poised on one knee in the center, a large, ornate, unsheathed sword firmly in hand.

“Sif?” Coulson asked as he took a small, tentative step towards the still motionless form.

A moment later, the stunning female warrior stood, keeping her weapon drawn but lowered at her side.  “Son of Coul, Warrior Widow,” she nodded to each of them in greeting.  “It is indeed I, Lady Sif.  I apologize for my sudden and unannounced appearance.  I recognize how jarring our form of transportation can be.  I trust none of your team was harmed in the process?”

Phil stepped next to Natasha and gently took her by the elbow to help her get to her feet without having to loosen her grip on the bag.

“Roll call: status report,” the Director called over the comms.  After every member of the team had checked in and confirmed their individual safety, Coulson holstered his weapon and approached their Asgardian ally.

“Is there something we can help you with this evening Lady Sif?” he asked ingenuously, already well aware of the cause for her visit.

Sif’s hazel-brown eyes immediately flitted to Natasha and the bag she had clutched tightly to her chest.

“Indeed, Son of Coul,” Sif replied calmly as she took a step towards Natasha.  “I’ve been sent here to Earth to retrieve that which rightfully belongs in the realm of Asgard.”

“What is it?” Natasha asked, standing firm in her place.

“The item you currently hold in your grasp is an Asgardian artifact.  It is extremely powerful and dangerous.  And in the wrong hands, capable of wreaking unimaginable destruction and death.”

“So, really no different than every other deadly alien relic we’ve ever handled,” Coulson shrugged.

“Who sent you?” Natasha asked.

“Thor sent me, Warrior Widow,” she answered flatly, though her features were strained in a grimace that didn’t match the simplicity of her reply.

“It’s Natasha.  And, why didn’t he just come for it himself?” the redhead pushed, shooting a furtive glance at Phil.

Sif shifted her stance, looking a little unnerved by the other woman’s continued line of questioning.  “Thor’s been… detained,” she said uncertainly as she looked between her human allies.  “Urgent matters of the Realm I’m afraid I’m not at liberty to discuss at the moment.”

 Sif paused, staring anxiously at the bag in Natasha’s arms before locking eyes with the stalwart spy.  Her expression softened to one of near desperation.  She took a small, hesitant step closer and implored again, her voice barely above a whisper.

“Please.  Warri— Natasha.  Give me the relic.  I—  I  don’t wish to fight you for it.  But I will if I must.”  Her eyes bore into Natasha’s soul as she silently, urgently pled her case.  Natasha shifted her glance to Phil, maintaining eye contact with him as she replied in a calm, calculated tone.

“We’ve been on the hunt for this thing for months.  I’m sorry.  I can’t just hand it over.  Not without speaking with Thor myself first.”

“Agent Romanoff,” Coulson started curtly, clearly not onboard with whatever reckless plan she was about to execute.

Sif spoke up before he could continue, an auspicious expression now lighting her previously troubled face.  “You’ll come willingly then,” she said.  More confirmation than question.

“Yes,” Natasha answered bluntly.

A gruff, angry voice suddenly broke out over the comms.  “No.  You’re not going to fucking Asgard, Nat.  Forget it.  It’s a trap!” Barton barked, a sound of unmistakable fear tainting his voice.

“I’ve got this, Clint.  Everything’ll be alright,” Nat replied in a sedated, placating tone as she looked to the Asgardian for some kind of reassurance.  Sif nodded once as she swiftly sheathed the sword in the scabbard attached to her belt, her posture relaxing with apparent relief.

Director Coulson strode towards them, seemingly resigned to letting one of his best, most trusted field agents be willfully taken to an alien world with nothing more than her own formidable abilities and a hell of a lot of faith.

“You have my word as a guardian of Asgard, I will keep her safe,” Sif professed, bowing her head as she crossed her right arm across her chest.  Her clenched fist rested over her heart as she uttered her simple oath.

Phil sighed and scrubbed his right hand tiredly over his face.  His left hand was perched on his hip, pushing back the edge of his standard issue black blazer.  “I don’t like this,” he muttered.  “Dr. Selvig— ”

“Is in South America,” Natasha interrupted.  “He can’t help us.”

Phil nodded to acknowledge her point.  “Just… be careful.”  Then he looked at Sif and quietly commanded, “Go.  Save him and bring her back as fast as you can.”  He didn’t wait for a response before turning on his heel and striding determinedly towards the Quinjet.  He walked up the ramp without looking back and faded from Nat’s view into the darkened cargo hold.

“Don’t die out there, Nat… ” Barton uttered.  “… ‘cause the second you get back I’m gonna kill your dumb ass.”

Natasha chuckled as she watched the door rise up and lock into place, the jet’s engines roaring to life.  Sif wrapped her arms around Natasha’s waist and looked down into her fierce green eyes.  “Thank you,” she said quietly, tightening her hold.  She looked up at the sky and yelled over the hum of the Quinjet.  “Heimdall, now!”

A moment later and the pair was encompassed by a flash of blinding light before vanishing into thin air to traverse space and time to the Realm of Asgard.

***

The journey to Asgard was dizzying and surreal.  Natasha instinctively tucked her nose in the crook of Sif’s neck and closed her eyes as she sought to ground herself, never loosening her iron grip on the precious bag in her arms.  When the feeling of nausea threatened to overwhelm her she concentrated once again on keeping her breaths steady and even, taking once again to counting in her head as she inhaled the scent of Sif surrounding her.  The Asgardian’s skin smelled surprisingly earthy, like rosemary and olive oil, while her thick brown hair had a much sweeter scent, reminding Natasha of lilacs with a hint of honey.  It was comforting and warm like a gentle summer’s breeze instantly soothing her beleaguered senses.

She relaxed so heavily into Sif’s firm embrace she hadn’t even realized that they’d arrived.

“Natasha?” Sif asked, stroking her hands gently up and down the redhead’s back.  Her eyes fluttered open drowsily like she’d just awoken from a nap.  As her eyes adjusted to the sights around her she wondered for a moment if she might actually still be asleep and in the midst of a dream.  The colossal stone columns and exquisite gilded statues that flanked the massive temple-like room reminded Natasha of the ancient Roman and Grecian effigies she’d seen on display in the Smithsonian.  When she eyed the otherworldly skyline glowing through the open window archways, her brain finally resolved where she really was.

“Where’s Thor?” she asked, clearing her groggy-sounding voice and taking a step back from Sif.

“Black Widow,” an ominously familiar voice drawled from a shadowed corner of the room.  “So nice of you to travel all the way to Asgard to hand-deliver that artifact to me.  I didn’t realize you cared so much.”

Natasha turned her attention to the corner of the room and tried to keep her expression neutral as she watched Loki stride arrogantly into the light.

“Where.  Is.  Thor,” she repeated in an obviously irritated tone, completely ignoring the raven-haired trickster’s attempt to provoke her.

“And here I was under the impression that _nothing_ got past the omniscient Natasha Romanoff,” Loki said with a tsk as he paced around the room taking slow, measured steps.  His black boots clicked loudly on the smooth, shiny, marble floor, creating a hollow cadence as the sound echoed throughout the enormous bed chamber they’d apparently ‘landed’ in.  He sighed loudly as he stopped in his path, dropped his chin towards his chest and shook his head in dismay.  “So disappointing.”

When he looked back up he fixed his gaze towards the darkened corner he’d initially emerged from, silently commanding both women to follow his stare.  There, in the shadows Thor knelt in silence.  His thick, muscled arms were bound tightly behind his back while a coarse-looking, black cloth was pulled firmly through the slot of his open mouth, effectively gagging the Asgardian god and barring his ability to speak.

“Comfortable brother?” Loki asked sardonically.  Thor glared back at his adopted sibling and growled angrily through the gag between his teeth as he twisted his body, attempting to snap the bonds tying his wrists with his impressive strength.

“What makes you think I’d just hand it over to you, you sick, sadistic bastard?” Natasha sneered as she gripped the bag even tighter to her ample bosom.

Loki tilted his head back and laughed, casually waving his hand towards Natasha and Sif.  A barely noticeable wisp of emerald green smoke swirled in the wake of the clearly dismissive, innocuous gesture.  In the blink of an eye, Natasha’s vision was clouded with an array of colorful starbursts.  She felt dizzy and disoriented, like she was floating with her feet still planted firmly on the ground.  Her body flushed hot to the core as her pupils dilated unnaturally wide, like giant black saucers leaving only the thinnest trace of green at the edges.  She felt suddenly ravenous with an insatiable hunger that clawed not at her belly but curled between her thighs.  She closed her eyes and inhaled deeply in an effort to gather her wits about her.  Instead she was overcome by the smell of olive oil and rosemary.  Lilacs and honey.

Natasha’s haunting, lust-filled eyes flew open, searching desperately for the target of her overwhelming want.  When she locked her gaze with Sif’s, it was like looking in a mirror.  The Asgardian warrior wore a matching, intensely predatory countenance.  She licked her lips hungrily as she stared down her prey.  Loki watched the two entranced women, uncontrollably drunk with desire, size each other up.  A smug smile pulled up the corner of his wickedly thin lips as he stepped up behind Natasha to whisper in her ear.

“Let me take that for you my dear,” the confident trickster deviously drawled as he reached around Natasha’s tapered, hourglass waist, easily rending the bag from her now trembling hands.  Thor grunted in protest from his post on the floor, helpless to do anything to stop Loki’s thieving or break the spell he’d apparently cast on his stupefied friends.

“Don’t worry brother, I’ve no _real_ plans to harm them,” he said as he dropped the bag gently to the floor.  “At least not at the moment,” he added with a self-satisfied grin as he stalked around the heaving women, watching them tense and shudder with anticipation.  He walked up to Sif and nipped on her earlobe, earning an impatient whine as she swallowed thickly, her gaze never leaving Natasha’s.

“You want her don’t you?” he asked amusedly.  Sif nodded enthusiastically.

“Use your words darling,” he teased the brunette.  Sif whimpered before stammering, “Y-yes Master.  I want her.  Please.”

“Oh my, this is going to be fun!” he exclaimed giddily as he brushed a long sweep of Sif’s silky brown hair off her shoulder.

Both women continued to stand steadfast in place, their breaths growing increasingly shallow through wet, parted lips, each of them clenching and unclenching their fists by their sides.  There was a palpable feeling of barely contained energy in the air, the atmosphere absolutely charged by the two thrumming bodies poised in the center of the room.  Like two deadly spring-traps, coiled and ready to snap.  All they needed was a trigger.  Permission for release.

“And what of you, Black Widow?” Loki asked mockingly.

He moved to stand next to the diminutive redhead and chuckled to himself, seemingly amused by just how much he towered over her petite, powerful frame.  Natasha remained laser-focused on Sif, barely even registering that the malevolent mischief-maker had placed one of his hands on the small of her back.  Loki locked his gaze with Thor’s, giving his morally superior sibling a feral grin as he slid his hand down to grope one rounded, full, leather-clad ass cheek with his long, slender fingers.  Natasha moaned quietly, her eyes fluttering closed for a moment at the contact.

“Are you ready to give in to your desires?” Loki asked Natasha, though his query was clearly being directed at his bound and gagged brother.

Thor snarled around the fabric muzzle and yanked ineffectually at the restraints binding his arms.  When Natasha failed to respond, Loki pulled his hand away only to bring it quickly back with a swift, firm smack to the very same cheek.  The sound as sharp as the crack of a whip echoed loudly in the otherwise quiet room.  Natasha gasped and her body shuddered as she fought to catch her breath.  A barely audible “Ah,” escaped Sif’s mouth as she leaned forward as far as she could without moving her feet.  It was like she was literally glued to the spot.

“Answer me, you weak, pathetic whore!” Loki shouted.

“Yes,” Natasha answered hoarsely, mimicking Sif’s stance and leaning as far forward as she could towards the goddess without toppling over.

“Well then,” Loki said as he moved to take a seat in a large throne-like chair that was situated to the side of the room.  “Let the games begin.  Undress yourselves.  Slowly,” he commanded.

Both women immediately obeyed the order without question, stripping themselves of their obvious arms and obscured weapons first and piling them all carefully by their feet.  Neither woman seemed physically capable of looking away from the other as they unclasped every belt, buckle and zipper that held their scant, form-fitting uniforms in place.  Loki watched on with obvious delight as the two warriors quietly removed the last remnants of their clothing to reveal a dichotomy of tight, twitching muscles and soft, supple curves.  All of it covered by smooth, alabaster skin.  Loki got up and began to pace around the now naked women, smirking fiendishly at Thor as he stepped right behind Sif.

“Quite the banquet, isn’t it brother?” he asked.

Thor glared, his breaths coming out harsh and loud through his nose.  He pressed his chest to the Asgardian’s backside and wrapped his arms around her.  His right hand roamed over the planes of her taut abdomen before migrating up towards her firm, round breasts.  Loki stared at his perpetual foil with a smug smile as he slid his left hand down around the front of Sif’s neatly trimmed sex, raking his fingers through the short, coarse, dark hair.  At the same time, he cupped her breast in his right hand, giving it a solid squeeze before teasing the dark pink, pebbled nipple with the pads of his fingers.  Sif tipped her head back and moaned softly, keeping her gaze fixed on the redhead across from her through half-hooded lids.  Loki pinched Sif’s nipple hard as he slid his middle finger into her hot, slick opening, earning a gasp from the bewitched brunette.  He pulled his slick-covered finger out and brought it to his lips.

“So ripe and ready for the taking,” he drawled before hungrily sucking Sif’s juices off of his glossy digit.

Thor growled through the gag again, twisting against the restraints at his wrists.  Loki chuckled and shook his head as he stepped away from Sif to crowd close to Natasha.

“You really are wasting your time with that soft, useless mortal you care so much about,” he chided.

He stood in front of Natasha and tipped her chin up with a loosely held fist, looking into her fierce but clouded eyes with disdain.

“So weak and unworthy,” he added dropping her chin and taking a step back.  He reached up with both hands and grabbed at Nat’s full breasts, groping roughly at the spongy flesh.  “At least this one has decent set of tits,” he added as he tugged on her hardened nipples.

Natasha arched her back and whined, apparently enjoying the less-than-gentle treatment.

“Mmmmmm…” Loki hummed, “I do like that.”  He dropped his hands and turned towards Sif, giving her an imposing glare.

“Make her scream,” he commanded as he strode past the beautiful warrior and back to his seat.

Before his ass could even touch the plush, red, velvet cushion, Sif surged forward and tackled Natasha, crashing them both to the cold, stone floor in a naked heap of tangled limbs.  The rapacious women wrestled around, battling for dominance, each completely consumed by the need to smell, touch, and taste the other.  They grunted and panted as they rolled around, their heated bodies now glistening with a fine sheen of sweat.  Sif’s superior strength gave her the upper hand when her cravings and frustration took over her senses.  She elegantly flipped Natasha on her back and straddled the redhead’s perfectly tapered waist, pinning her to the floor.  Rather than continue to fight, Natasha surrendered to the Asgardian, staring up at her with eager eyes, her bare chest rising and falling rapidly with each panting breath.

Sif leaned down slowly to capture Natasha’s plump, pink lips in a bruising kiss.  Natasha moaned loudly as she parted her lips and darted her tongue out to meet the brunette’s, her hands roaming freely over Sif’s toned back and down over the curves of her ass.

“Spread your legs, mortal,” Loki commanded from his chair.  “Nice and wide.”

Natasha had no choice but to comply, mindlessly dropping her knees apart to give her devious captor an unobstructed view of the pink, swollen folds of her dripping wet sex.  Sif’s exposed asshole and her own glistening labia hovered just above Natasha’s as she leaned down fully to press their bodies together as they continued to kiss with unbridled passion.  Sif licked her way down Natasha’s neck, sucking bruising marks along her collar bones while her hands roamed unfettered over Natasha’s heaving, ample breasts.  Sif was powerless to resist her desires to worship those perfect mounds with her mouth, kissing and licking each areola before suckling hungrily on each ruddy, hard nipple.  Natasha arched her back and whined with pleasure as she pushed her perfect tits into Sif’s greedy mouth.

“Enjoying the view as much as I am, brother?” Loki asked with a satisfied sneer.

Thor protested as best he could but his body had already betrayed him.  Loki glanced at the long, thick outline of the God of Thunder’s massive, hardened cock that was bulging down his inner thigh, damn near touching his knee.

“I thought as much,” Loki huffed in answer to his own question.  Thor hung his head in shame.

“Don’t be such a prude,” Loki teased his ersatz sibling.  “There’s no disgrace in wanting to watch.  And I _know_ that you want to.”

Thor kept his gaze fixed on the floor.  He breathed heavily through his nose as he tried to ignore the soft mewls and stuttered moans emanating from the two vexed women.  It was an exercise in futility however, as the pull in his groin overpowered the will in his heart to remain a gentleman and avert his eyes.  He couldn’t stop the groan he’d made around the gag in his mouth when he finally relented and looked at the scene unfolding before him.

The ladies had shifted positions and were now sitting up, their legs intertwined and their pussies aligned.  They shared a fervent kiss before leaning back to give themselves a better angle to press their slick, hot openings firmly together.  They rolled their hips and threw their heads back, clearly enjoying the wet slide of soft, pink flesh on soft, pink flesh.  The otherwise quiet air was filled with the obscene sound of their dripping wet cores rubbing together and the low, feral moans that escaped from their mouths.  Sif and Natasha writhed together as one, undulating their bodies in a synchronized rhythm that grew faster and rougher with every passing minute.

Loki rubbed his palm over his own throbbing erection, trapped within the confines of his tight leather pants.  He hissed at the contact and shifted in his seat.

“Enough!” he called out in his sudden frustration, freezing the scissoring girls in their place.  “I gave you an order, Sif,” he spat.

“Yes, master,” she answered obediently with a mindless nod.  She scooted back away from Natasha without saying another word and went to work, methodically positioning the other woman’s pliant body with controlled, efficient movements.  She laid the Black Widow flat on her back, grabbed her wrists and placed her hands above her head.  Next, she positioned the redhead’s feet on the floor and gently pushed her knees apart, once again spreading her legs wide open.  Natasha’s baby smooth bare labia were flushed full with her arousal and glistened with a thick, creamy-white coating created by the combination of the two women’s juices.  Sif knelt down between Nat’s thighs before pressing her taut abdomen to the floor.  She used her thumbs to massage Nat’s pussy and expose her dripping core even more before darting her tongue out to take a taste.

Natasha’s entire body arched at the feel of Sif’s tongue, tensing with uncontrollable want and the anticipation of more to come.

“Mmmmm,” Sif hummed contentedly as she shifted to get more comfortable, pulling Natasha’s legs over her shoulders while she hooked her arms underneath the trembling body before.  Sif pressed her fingers into the firm flesh of Natasha’s thighs as she leaned in to take the other woman apart.  She flicked her tongue over Nat’s clit, back and forth, over and over before pulling it sloppily into her mouth, suckling on the sensitive bud with obscene slurping sounds that were only surpassed in volume by redhead’s clamorous moans.  Natasha dug her heels into Sif’s back as she writhed in pleasure, pushing her ass off of the ground and surging her sensitive sex against the brunette’s ravenous mouth.  Sif delved her tongue as deep as it would go, pumping it in and out in rhythm with Natasha’s panting breaths.

“Finger her,” Loki ordered, his voice sounding more strained than he’d intended.

Sif obeyed immediately, pulling her left hand free to probe her partner’s hot opening with her index and middle fingers.

Loki gave Thor a wicked grin as he shifted in his seat and unfastened his pants.

“If you could only abandon your morality long enough to appreciate the sheer depravity of this remarkable situation,” Loki said, shaking his head with evident disappointment.  “Perhaps I’d unbind your hands and let you seek release.”

Loki pulled his long, hard, thick cock out and began to stroke it languidly, grinning back at Thor’s glaring grimace.  “Alas brother, your annoyingly righteous attitude and senseless insistence to act with honor won’t allow it.”

Natasha shrieked with pleasure at that very moment, pulling both men’s attentions back to the spellbound women having sex in the center of the room.  Sif had reached her right hand up to toy with Natasha’s full, rounded breasts.  She pinched and pulled at the spy’s pink, pebbled nipples while she continued to pump her deft fingers in and out of Nat’s soaking entrance, all the while sucking on the hood of the redhead’s firm, swollen clit, working it over relentlessly with her tongue.

“Ah, ah, ah, ah,” Natasha panted as her pleasure quickly mounted.  “Yeah, yeah, yeah, yes! Yes! YES! YESSSSS!!!!” she screamed, her body quaking uncontrollably as the force of her orgasm possessed her.  Her eyes rolled back into her head, digging her heels into the Asgardian’s shoulder blades as she arched up off of the floor with a wordless scream.  Hot, clear streams of cum squirted out of her twitching sex, soaking Sif’s face and hair and landing in her open, waiting mouth.  Sif swallowed loudly before licking her own lips and moaning with pleasure at the taste.  Vexed with insatiable lust, she ducked her head right back down between Nat’s trembling thighs, darting her tongue out to lap at the stream of flowing juices still spurting from her spasming pussy and down over the tight pucker of her asshole.

As soon as the tip of Sif’s pointed tongue breached the tight right of muscle, Natasha gasped, her back bowing sharply as her eyes flew open.  The trance-induced fog that had clouded her brain and controlled her body slowly receded with every blink of her bewildered eyes.  Her pulse pounded loudly in her hears as her body continued to thrum with pleasure.  She was sensitive, almost overly so, and the hot, wet tongue that was presently probing her ass was making it harder than it really should’ve been to take stock of her surroundings and evaluate threats.  She moaned with pleasure as she scanned the room through heavy-lidded eyes, careful not to shift her posture or alter her expression in such a way as to draw her captor’s attention or alert him to her recently re-gained state of consciousness.

She spied Thor, still bound and kneeling on the floor with a pained look on his face and a massive erection in his pants.  She felt sorry for her constrained compatriot, knowing that he wanted nothing more than to free his friends.  At the same time, his baser, animal instincts were screaming at him to break free and fuck them both senseless.  Next, she turned her gaze on Loki.  Not at all surprised to see the smug, sadistic fucker fisting his own impressively long, thick cock from the comfort of his gilded throne.  Apparently his filthy, private peep show was starting to get the best of him though when he stilled his hand and uttered his next command.

“Sif,” he called.  “Miss Romanoff has had her share of your wicked mouth.  Come here now and suck my cock.”

Sif immediately pulled her mouth away from Natasha’s glistening hole and made to stand and follow her order.

“Don’t get up,” Loki stated.  “Crawl to me on your hands and knees.  Beg for it, like the weak-willed, sycophantic bitch I’ve always known you to be.”

“Yes, master,” Sif answered mechanically, seemingly unaffected by his offensive words.  She lowered her head and began to crawl towards their tormentor.

Thor thrashed against his restraints as he growled angrily into his gag.  Natasha shared his fury, exercising every ounce of restraint in her pleasure-wracked body to not leap up in that very moment to tackle the trickster to the ground, attacking him unawares.  Instead she took a deep breath and remained in her spot, closing her eyes to sort through what she knew and concoct a better, more rationale plan.  One that wouldn’t put her still-spellbound colleague in greater danger or lead to her own devastation or death.  It didn’t take her long to realize that whatever magic Loki had cast, it had caused both her and Sif to be insatiably aroused and utterly obedient.  Sif had given Natasha the most powerful orgasm she’d ever experienced in her entire life.  One that had caused her to do something she’d never done before and had only ever seen in poorly produced pornos.  She’d squirted profusely all over her friend, creating the literal pool of cum that she was currently lying in before emerging from her trance.  The spell had been broken via earth-shattering orgasm and Loki was apparently none-the-wiser.  Huh.  It stood to reason that she could free Sif in a similar manner—by pleasuring her to the point of rapture.  Once the Asgardian was no longer entranced, they could work together to overpower Loki and liberate Thor.  With a solid plan of action settled in her mind, Natasha did what years of forced conditioning and intentional training had taught her to do.  Wait.

Sif’s bare knees dragged along the cold stone floor until she was finally kneeling obsequiously at Loki’s feet.  He kicked off his pointed black boots and shoved his tight leather pants down his long, pale, well-muscled legs.  He sat back down, legs spread wide and a feral grin on his face.

“Choke on it,” he ordered as he slumped down in the over-sized chair, thrusting his hips forward in anticipation.

Sif nestled herself between his knees and leaned forward with her mouth slightly open, her tongue just protruding over her plush bottom lip.  She traced a circle around the mushroomed, red crown with the tip of her tongue before lapping the precum away from his slit like a kitten drinking cream.  Loki let her taste and tease for just a moment before putting one hand on the back of her head.

“I know you can do better than that,” he chastised as he pushed her head down and thrust his hips up with a jerk, causing her to gag and choke as the tip of his cock jabbed the back of her throat.  She continued to struggle around his long, thick member as he forcibly moved her head slowly up and down, using the unwitting warrior as he pleased.

Loki bit down into his own lower lip and closed his eyes for a moment, getting lost in the warm, velvety heat of Sif’s mouth.  Natasha took the opportunity to quickly get Thor’s attention.  She lifted her hand silently in the air, drawing his eyes to hers.  She stared into his troubled eyes and nodded once to let her constrained compatriot know she was no longer under Loki’s spell.  The tension in his thick, broad shoulders visibly relaxed with the realization as he dropped his head in obvious relief.

Natasha immediately resumed her act, feigning impassive enchantment from her wet spot on the floor.  Loki didn’t let her rest there for long.

“You.  Mortal,” he grunted as he dug his fingertips into Sif’s scalp between unhurried thrusts.

Natasha turned her head towards him and gave him her best unfocused stare.

“Get over here and show me how one of ‘Earth’s Mightiest Heroes’ eats Asgardian ass,” he drawled sarcastically.

Thor grunted in protest once more.

“Apologies, brother,” he said, not sounding the least bit sorry.  “I know you also consider yourself to be a member of that merry band of misfits but I’ve got no interest in watching you tongue-fuck Sif at the moment.”

Natasha stood gracefully and silently sauntered over to the preoccupied pair.  She dropped down on her knees and took to her task without further prodding, secretly celebrating the fortuitous opportunity to bring Sif to climax and release her from Loki’s spell.  She rubbed her hands lightly over the globes of Sif’s firm, round ass before gripping the other woman by the waist to position her in a way that enabled the brunette to keep pleasuring Loki while giving Natasha unhindered access to Sif’s hot, dripping core.  The moment Natasha licked the flat of her tongue over Sif’s swollen entrance, the brunette moaned hotly around Loki’s shaft, suckling hungrily on the smooth, engorged head.

“God, I love being me,” Loki gloated as he dropped his head back and closed his eyes, obviously relishing Sif’s bolstered efforts in response to the pleasure she was now also receiving.

Natasha pushed down her justified rage, closed her eyes and began to kiss, lick and suck on Sif’s sensitive sex with unbridled enthusiasm.  The faster she flicked her tongue over Sif’s hardened clit, the faster the warrior before her bobbed her mouth up and down over Loki’s length.  The harder Nat sucked on the sensitive bud, the harder Sif sucked on his plump, purpled cockhead, hollowing her cheeks and straining to breathe through her nose.

“Easy darling,” Loki uttered through increasing labored breaths.  “I’m not quite ready for this to be over just yet.”

Sensing they were both close to climax, Natasha channeled her wrath to get Sif off.  She slid two strong, slender fingers up inside Sif’s hot, sticky sex and began to pump them in and out in a firm, steady rhythm, never once ceasing her oral assault.  When the brunette’s legs thighs began to quiver, she added a third finger, alternating between swirling her tongue over Sif’s clit and flicking it over her tiny, tight asshole, coating it generously with her spit.  Sif pulled off of Loki’s cock and stroked it vigorously as she arched her back and released a feral scream as her entire body quaked with the force of her orgasm.  As she came back down from the high of her release, she shook her head, clearing her mind with the spell now well broken.  She slowed her hand and stared at the long, thick shaft held firm in her grasp.  Loki rocked his hips back and forth, conspicuously urging Sif to continue.

“You’ve had yours, harlot,” he bristled.  “Time for mine.”

Sif let go of Loki’s pulsing dick and lunged for the trickster’s throat catching him completely off guard.  She squeezed his windpipe with her left hand and held her right fist high in the air, poised to strike.  She grinned with maniacal satisfaction as her captor gasped for air like fish out of water, a look of shocked bewilderment in his wide, frantic eyes.

“Yes.  It is,” she answered sharply before cocking her fist back and slamming it forward with all of her might into his temple, knocking him out cold.

Loki’s cock hung hard and heavy between his legs even as the rest of his body slumped over limply in the oversized chair, his ebony hair falling over his face as his head lolled aimlessly over the armrest like a lifeless ragdoll.  Sif turned immediately and offered her hands out to Natasha, pulling the exhausted Avenger to her feet.

“Nicely done,” Natasha praised with a nod towards Loki’s unconscious form.

“Natasha…” Sif began, her expression already soured with a mixture of shame and remorse.  Natasha had no interest in making the already incredibly awkward situation any more so.  She turned away, breaking eye contact with Sif before she could say another word.

“He’s not going to stay out for long,” she said, striding confidently toward her discarded uniform.  She knelt down gracefully and began to search for the restraints she knew were tucked safely into one of the utility pouches attached to her belt.

“I’ll tie him up while you release Thor.”

Sif nodded once with thankful reverence and moved swiftly to get by Thor’s side.  She knelt by her leader and worked quickly to first remove the gag from his mouth.

“Are you alright?” she asked him worriedly as soon as he was free to respond.

Thor nodded as he ran his dry tongue over his teeth, keeping his eyes fixed on the floor as his naked colleagues continued their work.  He cleared his throat as Sif moved behind him to remove the bonds from his arms.

“You went too easy on him,” he said in a rough, husky voice.

“There’s no satisfaction to be had in beating an insentient man,” she replied, yanking harder than intended on the ropes wrapped tightly around Thor’s wrists.  “Nor any honor,” she added pulling the ropes loose to the point that Thor could break free from them himself.

He stood up slowly and rubbed at his wrists, working the numbness from his aching joints.

“Indeed,” he replied as he turned to watch Natasha secure Loki’s ankles.  “I’m not sure that an appropriate form of punishment exists in this world that would give any of us the satisfaction that we truly crave.”

Natasha yanked hard on the final tie before standing proud, even though she was still completely naked.

“I’ve got an idea,” she said with a smirk.

***

Loki came to twenty minutes later with a dreadful headache that throbbed painfully in time with each beat of his pulse.  He breathed in sharply through his nose and bit down hard on the gag in his mouth as he squeezed his eyes tight and bowed his head.  He’d been bound and gagged, just like he’d done to Thor.  But unlike his brother, he’d been stripped of every last stitch of his clothing.  The chilled air around him kissed his pale, goose-pimpled skin while the cold, hard, marble floor beneath his naked knees drew away what warmth he had left, causing him to shiver and shake.

The sounds of soft moaning and wet, smacking kisses forced his eyelids to finally fly open.  He was frankly more than a bit surprised by what he saw.  How had he not felt his cock and balls encircled by ring and enclosed in a shiny metal cage tightly fitted to his manhood before?  His flaccid penis began to instantly thicken when he fixed his gaze on the unmistakable source of the noises he’d heard.  There, on the luxurious bed in front of him, Thor was stretched out with Sif and Natasha flanking his sides.  All three of them were naked and their long, toned limbs were tangled together as they exchanged languid kisses and teasing caresses.  They writhed and rutted together on top of the sheets, moving together as one.

Loki glowered from his spot in the corner, growling lowly around the gag in his mouth and garnering three, well-earned, supercilious smiles.

“Ah, brother,” Thor bellowed smugly.  “So nice of you to join us again.”  The Asgardian god paused in his taunting to plunge his tongue into Natasha’s welcoming mouth, cupping one full, round breast in his hand and pinching the flushed, pink, hardened nipple between his thick fingertips as he did.  He then turned to mirror his actions on his other lover, humming into Sif’s mouth as she took his impressive member in hand and began to stroke him to full hardness.  Clearly they were just getting started.

Three long moan-filled, sweat-glazed, cum-laden hours later left Loki a livid, trembling, horny mess.  He was nearly whimpering with need by the time they had finished, his hardened cock trapped painfully in the confines of the cage.  The three friends lay panting together in satiated bliss, resting a moment before rising to re-dress.

“Well, this was… something else,” Black Widow said as she tightened the final strap of her Kevlar thigh holster.

“We—” Thor started.

“Will never speak of this with anyone.  Ever.” Natasha finished his sentence.  “Agreed?” she asked with one eyebrow arched as if daring either one of them to balk at the suggestion.

“Agreed,” Sif and Thor replied together.

“Good.  Now, if you’d please take me home.  This mere mortal needs a hot bath, a shot of vodka and my own bed.”

“Of course,” Thor answered.  He opened his arms and waited for Natasha to step into his embrace.

“Wait!” Sif called.  She hurried to gather up the bag containing the relic and held it forward to present it to Natasha.  She bowed in respect and said, “Please take this back to Son of Coul.  I believe it will be safer in his guardianship on Earth than it would be here in Asgard.”

Natasha hesitated for a moment, before tucking the sack close to her breast and nodding in acceptance.

Sif smiled coyly and bowed once more, “Until we meet again, Natasha.”

“Take care,” the redhead replied warmly.

Thor pulled his comrade closer, planting a chaste, lingering kiss on her supple lips for what he knew would be the very last time.  He raised his eyes towards the ethereal Asgardian sky, a gratified smirk pulling up the corner of his mouth.

“We’re ready now, Heimdall.”

***

**Location:  Debriefing Room – New Avengers Facility, Upstate New York**

“So, let me get this straight.  You tracked down Thor, gave him the relic, and aided the Asgardians in recapturing Loki.  Then after all of that, they just... gave it to you?”  Coulson asked as he leaned back further in the expensive, ergonomically correct office chair, inadvertently testing the tensile strength of the tilting mechanism.  He tapped his fingertips together idly as he switched his gaze between the only other two people in the room—the Black Widow and Captain America.

“Yup,” Natasha replied unaffectedly as she stood at the front of the room, arms folded casually across her chest.  “In the end they decided it’d be safer here than in their own realm.”

“Did Thor at least tell you what this thing does?” the Captain asked as he moved to untie the bag.

“No.  He didn’t.  So, you might not want to pull on that thread, Steve,” she warned.  “Literally.”

Steve placed the bag back down on the table carefully, pushed his chair away and stood to leave.

“Well, if that’s all there really is to report, then I guess we’re done here.  Catalog it, seal it up, and bury it somewhere deep.  We’ve got bigger fish to fry.”

Steve made his way towards the exit, pausing to clap Natasha on the shoulder before pulling the spy into a brief hug.

“I’m glad you’re back safely, Nat.  Barton’s been a goddamn basket case.  Everyone’s ready to kill him.  If it wasn’t for his wife and kids…”

“Thanks, Cap,” Natasha chuckled.  “It’s good to be back.”  After Steve left, she turned her attention back to Director Coulson.

“So, if there’s nothing else, I guess I’d better go find Clint.”

Phil smiled softly and shook his head.  “That won’t be necessary.”

He pointed towards the ceiling and yelled, “Get out of the air ducts Barton before you fall through the fucking ceiling!!”

Both Phil and Natasha rolled their eyes at the muffled curses emanating from above.  Natasha turned on her heel to leave.

“Hey Nat,” the Director called, stopping her in her tracks.  She turned at the doorway, one hand on the frame and gave him an expectant look.  “Yeah?”

“Take a few days off for R&R.  You’ve earned it.”

Natasha opened her mouth to protest but was cut off by Coulson before she could even try.

“That’s an order.  Besides…” Phil paused and pointed tentatively at his own collarbones and smirked.

“It might take that long for all of those hickeys hidden under the edge of your suit to fade.  Those are hickeys, right?  Is that what the kids even call them these days?  I wonder if Asgardian-made hickeys last longer than mortal made--”

“Yeah, I’ll be back next week,” Natasha said with a sigh, leaving the Director to ponder his rambled musings alone.

**The End.**

**Author's Note:**

> Kudos and comments (even from anonymous) are always welcomed and appreciated :-)


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